Would You Take A Bullet?
by bobthetree123
Summary: Goodbye, Booth." Brennan has a lethal cancer, and knows she will soon be dead. What will Booth unknowingly promise as her dying wish? Can he live without his partner? Will the pain be enough to kill him? CHARACTER DEATH! BxB as always! NOW COMPLETE!
1. Excruciating Pain

Just a random story idea. Got the idea from an email I was sent - one of those junk, forwarded ones. But, still. Hope you enjoy!

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_Kathy peeled back the cloth, revealing shards of mud-covered bone. Sam drew back and covered his nose from the stench of the body. Kathy turned to him, then back to the body before her. She felt the hard bone. "Male, mid-twenties. Cause of death, most likely bullet." She lifted the skull and studied the bullet hole._

Brennan's fingers flew over the keyboard as she typed more of her new book. Her publishers had been calling every day asking when she would write more. She was angry with them, and each time told them that she had work commitments and anything rushed could be a complete disaster.

She had just sat back after finishing a chapter when she felt the pain. A stabbing, excruciating pain, shooting through her abdomen. She doubled over, clutching her stomach. Her breathing staggered, and she tried gulping in lungfuls of air, retrieving only dry oxygen, and made her throat parched. She felt like she was about to throw up.

White light danced behind her eyes, and she shut them to block out the brilliant silhouettes. They continued their jive, colourful light adding to the display. She tried to reach for her water bottle, but her hand fell limp.

For once in her life, she was absolutely terrified.  
_What's happening to me?_

She couldn't take it. She threw up the empty contents of her stomach, and staggered off the chair, trying to walk, but crumpled, landing on her hands and knees, bent over. The pain was unbearable.

She lay down, curled into a ball, her face scrunched up with torture. She was trembling – though whether it was from the seizure or fear she couldn't tell.

The last thing she saw before the darkness dragged her down was her partner walking through the door, a look of horror on his face as he saw her lie limp and unmoving on the floor.

* * *

Ok, so i know its really short, but its meant to be. Just wait until next chapter, which i promise will come soon. Please review and tell me what you think.

Thanks for reading!


	2. I Have To Ask

I apologize for taking so long to update. I've had exams at school and have been concentrating on just finishing one of my stories - it was getting too confusing. So its holidays now, and I can update a lot more, so I'll be updating quicker.

Hopefully you like it.

Thanks!

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"I'm fine, Booth. Really."

He didn't seem convinced. "You just collapsed on the floor, Bones, and you're saying you're fine? I'm not leaving until I know you're safe."

She sighed. "That's not necessary."

He sunk even lower in his chair, to prove his point that he was comfortable. They were in the hospital. After seeing his partner on the floor, he had immediately called 911, much to Brennan's distaste. She woke up in the ambulance, and seemed annoyed at Booth. But he knew he was doing it for her good. Even though she hated hospitals.

"It was just stress levels. I've been really pressed lately – my publishers have been constantly calling about my book, this case I just can't seem to solve…" She hoped that this would draw him off.

But he stayed glued to the topic, a fly never leaving its prey. "I think you just need to take a rest, Bones. Have a holiday!"

She shook her head. "No, Booth. I'll be fine."

He wanted to argue, but the nurse walked in. She flipped open the file and read over it. "Miss Brennan?" she asked, her voice high and false.

"Yes?"

"I wonder if I can talk with you alone…" She was eyeing Booth. "Are you a family member?" She asked him.

"I'm her partner."

"He can stay," Brennan objected. The nurse shook her head.

"I'm sorry. Only family members."

Booth slowly got up, keeping his eye on Brennan the whole time, concern in his eyes. Something bad was going to happen, he could feel it. Both Brennan and the nurse watched him silently, and then the nurse turned to Brennan. Brennan looked into her eyes, unafraid. "What's happened?" she asked, trying to keep her voice even.

The nurse sighed. "I'm afraid you have Gastroesophageal cancer. In other words-"

"Stomach cancer," Brennan whispered. "How bad?"

The nurse shrugged, though the answer was clearly in her eyes. "We may be able to treat it in time. But it's going to require a lot of treatment."

Brennan nodded, her mouth not working. Stomach cancer could be lethal, she knew that. And hers sounded pretty bad. She seemed angry at herself, though she had no right to. "I was wondering if I was sick. I've had pains in my stomach – not as bad as when I fainted, but pretty bad. I've lost weight, been tired. I just assumed all this was from working. I completely missed the signs that it could be any type of cancer…"

"Did you see a doctor?" she asked, surprised.

"No. I hate doctors." The nurse seemed taken aback, but Brennan didn't notice. "Could you do me a favour?" she asked the nurse. "Can you not tell my partner, the one that was in here?"

The nurse's eyes turned gentle, as if granting a dying wish. She nodded. "Of course. The fewer people who know the better. But shall I call him in?"

"Yes. He'll be wondering what happened."

While Brennan waited for the storm of Booth, she wondered why she would tell him. She had made a quick decision to the nurse, but she knew it would take her a big choice to tell him or not. Either way it would break his heart.

She heard the door clatter open and Booth nearly run in, over to her bed and drew the chair up to the bed, clasping her hands in his. She saw the nurse raise her eyebrow, and then walk out of the room.

Booth was in a fuss. He was smoothing his hand over her porcelain face, trying to be gentle, polite. But he could hold back no longer.

"What did she want?" he asked softly, trying to gently touch on the subject, but wanting all the details.

"She just told me to be careful, but she didn't want you around in case you tried to be too protective, something like that," she murmured. She hated lying to her partner, but she didn't want to hurt him. She couldn't imagine what he would do if he found out she had a possibly lethal cancer…

Booth didn't seem to notice she was distracted by her thoughts. He just continued to stroke her hair out of her eyes, his eyes laying silently on hers, letting them melt into her heart. She let him touch her, loving the gentle feel of his hands.

They moved only when the nurse returned, this time holding a syringe. Brennan gazed calmly at them. "Now, I'm just going to take a sample of blood. Are you okay with that?" Brennan nodded. She didn't mind needles at all. She felt the tiny prick and then the cool metal touch her skin as it collected the flowing blood. It was over in a few seconds. The nurse smiled, showing white teeth. "Thankyou, that's all for now. Can I get you anything?"

Brennan nodded. "A bottle of water would be great."

Booth jumped up, determined to complete the errand, but the nurse waved him down. "I'm passing by that way anyway." And Booth was forced to sit down again, and then watched the nurse flow gracefully out of the room.

They sat in silence for a while, each now awkward. Booth didn't want to move again in case Brennan was feeling out of her comfort zone. He contented himself with staring out of the door at the ruckus of the waiting room outside.

And then he caught sight of him.

His skin turned cold.

A clown was standing in the waiting room.

Honking his nose.

"Booth?" Brennan asked, seeing her partner distracted.

Booth jumped, a shriek emitting from his throat. Brennan was concerned, and then saw what he was looking at. She laughed. A pain shot through her abdomen, but she ignored it. "It's there to cheer up kids!" She managed to gasp out between laughs. "And 'laugh' instead it 'laugh' scares you!" She was leaning into hysterica. Booth glared at her, and then looked out the window again, making sure the clown wasn't coming anywhere near him. It was a big clown, in a bright yellow suit and a red nose flashing in the light. It had a multi-coloured wig on, and its face was painted a sickly white colour. It took a few steps towards Brennan's room, and Booth ducked so as to not be seen.

This sent Brennan into even more laughter.

Booth groaned and sat upright again, pulling down the collar of his suit as if to prove his status. Brennan was still laughing. "Be quiet," he murmured. He was slightly ashamed at still being scared of the harmless fun-goers, and yet he felt even more humiliated by being laughed at by his partner. He sneeked a glance out again, and breathed a sigh of relief.

The clown was nowhere in sight.

And then the door opened. Booth expected the nurse, but instead…

Sweat gathered on his forehead and he struggled to maintain his composure as the clown walked in the room. He saw Brennan lying in the white bed, drips attached to her arm, and he reached up, honking his nose. Then he looked at Booth, and saw him terrified. Believing that it was something else, the clown tried to cheer him up as well, splashing his face with cold water from a plastic flower. Booth shouted out and ran out of the room.

The clown looked at Brennan. She was still giggling. He raised his eyebrows, wondering the reasons for Booth's odd behaviour.

"Coulrophobia," she gasped. The clown nodded. Clearly he had encountered many with the fear of clowns. He backed out of the room.

Brennan waited for Booth to returned, and it took several minutes before the FBI agent reappeared. His arrival sent Brennan into even more laughter, but it quickly cooled at his stony expression.

"They should be for children," he said, annoyed. He was clearly embarrased by being shame-faced by a clown. "What are they doing here?"

"They're just doing their job, Booth," Brennan said, calming down at his scrunched face. She tried to reassure him. "He's gone now."

Booth cautiously sat down again, checking for any type of trick left behind. Seeing none, he repositioned his chair next to Brennan's bed. Bravelly now, he replaced her hands in his. His face turned serious, and Brennan was worried. It must have to be something big to make his frustrated expression turn immediately to calm.

"Temperance…" he asked slowly. He hardly ever used her first name.

She gazed into his eyes, and his prepared words disappeared. Her eyes were warm enough to melt any man's heart.

Seeing that he was stumped, she took her turn.

"Seeley," she asked, using the same techniques as he. "I have to ask you something."

Seemingly glad to get out of the awkward moment, though scared of what she might ask, he sat forward slightly, his face only millimeters from hers.

"What?" he asked, whispering.

"You have to think about this carefully. It's pretty big."

Booth nodded. He was willing.

She took a deep breath, and prepared herself for his face of shock.

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Thanks, everyone. Please tell me what you think by moving your mouse to the 'review' button. I'd really love to get at least 5 reviews. That's be great.

Thanks for reading


	3. Such A Secret

Omg. Thankyou everyone so much for the reviews. I wasn't expecting that many, but since i got them I immediately started writing again.

This story is dedicated to my best friend Emily (Emilijah and the girls), who is as much of a bones fanatic as I am.

Thanks for those who corrected my last chapter. I havn't changed anything, but tried to correct things this chapter. Hope that helps :)

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"_Seeley," she asked, using the same techniques as he. "I need to ask you something."_

_Seemingly glad to get out of the awkward moment, though scared of what she might ask, he sat forward slightly, his face only millimetres from hers._

"_What?" he asked, whispering._

"_You have to think about this carefully. It's pretty big."_

_Booth nodded. He was willing._

_She took a deep breath, and then prepared herself for his face of shock._

*

"Do you love me?" she whispered, her face a mask of wonderment, embarrasement and awkwardness.

Booth tried not to scoff. "Of course, Bones," he said, as gently and carefully as he could.

She shook her head. "No, I mean, more then partners. Do you really love me, Booth?"

He didn't even have to think twice about it. "Temperance," he said, staring into her pleading eyes. "I love you more then I have ever loved anyone before. You have made my life...my life. I could not have lived it without you, and I don't know how I did before you came into it. I love you more then anything in this world, Temperance. Nothing can change that."

She smiled, though it was a sad smile. She felt his hand flow down her cheek, coming to rest on her jawline.

"Why?" he asked.

She was hesitant with her answer. She didn't want to tell him the real reason for her wonder, but she needed to sound believable. Unfortunately, she wasn't good at lying or making people believe her deception. "I've always known that you loved me. I just wanted to hear it, before...." she paused, only for a second, but Booth caught the scent. He straightened up.

"Before what? What happened?" he asked. Concern danced in his eyes. She looked away shamefully, but determined to keep the truth to herself. She knew she was hurting Booth, but she didn't want to break his heart with the news.

"Nothing," she said, gathering her thoughts. She backpedalled. "I just need to know before we get out of here."

"Does this change anything?" he asked, worried that he might have ruined everything.

Her eyes were gentle. "Maybe. Nothing bad, though. It may just change our future."

He seemed satisfied with her answer, believing her unfaithful words. She knew that she would never get out of here, that they would never have a future. _No, _she said bravely to herself. _I can fight this. It's only sometimes lethal. Nothing bad has happened yet. I can still survive._

She put on a brave face, to assure Booth that she was fine and well. She knew that before long he would start to see holes in her happiness, but for now he was content. She gazed down at her hands, not sure that if she looked into his eyes he would see the truth that lay behind them. She saw Booth notice her gaze, and soon his hands were on hers once more.

"Booth?" she whispered. Somehow it seemed appropriate to whisper, even though the hospital was loud with noisy patients, screaming for their parents or crying at the sight of a needle.

He glanced warily up at her. "Yeah?"

She hesitated. She knew how sissy this would sound, but she needed to say it. "I...would...uh..." she chickened out. "I'm really tired."

Booth nodded. "I'm sorry. I've kept you from your sleep. You must be exhausted." He helped cover her in the stiff, cold blankets, and added an extra pillow behind her head. He only stopped fussing when he was satisfied that she was comfortable.

He reached down and gently laid a kiss on her forehead. Her eyes sparkled, from his touch, or just life in general he couldn't tell. He then moved down to her lips, and softly brushed his against hers. She didn't move, and seemed to accept him. But she was in no fit state to add any movement, and so she let him kiss her, loving the gentle feel of his lips. No-one had ever been so gentle. Or pure. She longed for more.

But all too quickly he was gone, his empty chair now ghostly, too empty. She wished she hadn't said she was tired. She was pathetic. She had chickened out. She was meant to be a strong woman! She dealt with bodies every day, met their grieving families, told them the aching news. She put faces on victims, learned their true identities, knew them by their first name. Yet she never cried. Never was fearful. She never flinched when she found out someone had shot her, that a murderer was after her, trying to kill her. She refused to budge, refusing to be afraid. When she'd seen bodies, babies, even, she refused to be afraid. When Botoh kissed her, under that mistletoe, she refused to be afraid...

And now she had just wanted to ask him a question. Sure, she had managed to stutter those important, life-changing words; 'Do you love me?', but why couldn't she go on?  
She remembered his words. She knew they would be forvever etched into her heart, taken with her to the grave. "_I love you more then anything in this world, Temperance. Nothing can change that."_

She felt a tear begin to streak down her cheek. She quickly wiped it away, and felt the mark where Booth had stroked her. She memorised the feel of his touch, hoping that her words hadn't changed their chemistry, hadn't made it awkward.

She knew it was pointless to rethink it over. What was done was done. But she knew she had to ask that question tomorrow, otherwise she may never get the chance...

*

She had an extremely painful night. She constantly had pains shooting through her abdomen, starting her awake, crouching over in pain. She constantly felt like she needed to throw up, and often had to jump out of bed and run to the bathroom, which had been provided for her room. At first she was coughing up empty air, but then she saw blood emitting from her mouth.

It was getting worse.

But the worse part was after the retching. Every time she went to the bathroom she immediately felt fatigued, and often had to stumble back into bed, the room spinning. She fell asleep only for short periods of time, before revisiting the bathroom.

She woke in the early hours of the morning, the sun peeking through the windows weakly. A nurse came in, and offered her small bites of food. She tried to eat, but her belly wouldn't stomach the food, and soon it was all coming out anyway.

She gave up on trying to eat. Instead she lay back in bed, her head resting on the hard pillows. Her neck felt stiff from the awkward positions she had slept in, and she constantly rolled it around, trying to free the muscles from the clenching grasp.

She was rolling her head again when Booth walked in. He raised his eyebrows at her strange movements. Brennan felt her stomach flip when he walked in. She quickly had to jump out of bed and run to the bathroom, with him staring after her. Thankfully nothing came up, but she still felt quesy. She walked slowly back to her bed, ready to face his concerned look.

She was only just back in bed when he began asking. "You're clearly not well. Bones, tell me. Something's not right. You fainted yesterday in fornt of me. You say you're fine and yet you ran past me to the bathroom just then. I heard you in there."

Brennan flinched at the thought of the sounds of her retching behind the closed door. But how could she cover for the story?

A doctor walked in, a different person to the day before. She had gentle eyes, yet a hard mouth. But somehow Brennan knew she was nice.

"A blood test?" the doctor asked, though more of a statement then a question. Brennan nodded. "How are you feeling?" she questioned while she was inserting the needle.

"Fine."

Booth made a sound at the back of his throat. The doctor looked up at him. "She just ran past me to throw up in the bathroom."

The doctor looked back to Brennan. She tried to tell her with her eyes that she wanted to talk alone. The doctor nodded, seemingly understanding. She knew she couldn't force Booth out, but knew how to make him leave voluntarily. "We'll just need you to remve your clothing so I can give you an external examination."

It worked. Booth stood up. "I'll just go...wait....outside." He was already out of the door.

The doctor looked back to Brennan. "I am aware of your condition. How are you feeling?"

Brennan sighed. "Stomach pains. Nasuea. Trouble sleeping. Throwing up."

"Blood?" the doctor asked. Brennan nodded.

The doctor gave her a serious look. "I'm going to give you some medication. Hopefully it will help you recover. It sounds like you're getting worse."

"I was afraid of that."

The doctor nodded, giving her the pills and then walked out, about to indicate to Booth that he could return. But he was nowhere in sight. The doctor shrugged and the walked off. Brennan wondered where Booth could be – it wasn't like him just to leave unexpectedly – even if he had a case. He would have said goodbye.

But all confusion left her when he walked through the door. He was holding a bunch of flowers, and a teddy bear. She rolled her eyes. "Booth..." she disagreed.

Booth lay the flowers in an empty vase by her bed and put the teddy on her lap. She saw it read 'I love you'. She kept quiet.

Somehow Booth could tell not to ask any questions. He approached a different topic. "Angela called."

Brennan groaned. And then, to her displeasure, the girl herself walked in the door. She walked over to Brennan, and clutched her, holding her to her chest. She too was holding a teddy bear. Over Angela's shoulder, Brennan gave Botoh a deathly look.

Angela was full of sympathy. Over the space of an hour Hodgins and Cam had also arrived, both bringing gifts and tidings of sympathy. Luckily, as she had no food in her, she didn't have to make frequent trips to the bathroom. But Brennan was getting more and more tired by the second, and couldn't pay attention to the conversation around her. Soon her eyes were drooping, her head resting on the pillow, only to be jerked up again at the sound of Angela's laughter or a disagreement from Hodgins. But Booth was first to notcie her discomfort. He had his eyes on her nearly the whole time, and knew that she needed rest. He silenced the conversation with his loud voice.

"Ok, people, Bones is getting tired. Time to get out." He made swooping gestures with his hands. They gradually stood up, each reaching down and hugging Brennan. Booth was last, and made sure eveyone was out of the room before turning to her and kissing her smoothly again. Obviously he had the respect to keep their relationship a secret. She was glad. She didn't want Angela screaming her pleasure.

But she felt hollow inside. Her dream was at last coming true – they finally knew each others feelings. But she knew he would be devastated when he found out.....when she.....

She had to stop it. She couldn't break his heart like that.

But she couldn't tell him.

She couldn't hurt him.

Btu he seemed so confident, so sure that she was fine.

Maybe she should be feeling that way too.

She watched as Booth walked out of the room, before her head hit the pillow and she was finally pulled into a peacefull, momentarily unpainful sleep.

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I know my chapters are a bit short, but 1) long chapters can get really boring and 2) I'd have nothing to write about in the next chapters.

Please tell me what you think. Any criticism or corrections are welcome, just please don't make them _too _mean.

Thanks for reading!


	4. A Sea Of White

Thankyou everyone sooo much for their reviews last chapter. I'm seriously really happy! Hopefully now I've tried adding more chapters I haven't ruined it, but we'll see.

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Her troubles turned worse during the night, and it was then that Brennan knew.

The medication wasn't working.

She wasn't getting any better.

She was going to die.

_No, _she tried to consult herself, but she knew that her argument was feeble. She could feel herself getting weaker every moment. She felt drained, both pysically and mentally. She had no appetite, but even so she couldn't eat. She was wasting away, a fate that had always scared her.

The only thing that scared her.

She had never told anyone, but whenever she looked at a body, rotting or stuffed in a bag, she was afraid that she might someday end up like that. She knew many people wanted her to stop her work, and would quite gladly kill her, and though she would put on a brave face, inside she was actually scared that it might happen to her. She knew she would die one way, but she wanted a long life.

A life with Booth.

But here she was. Stuck in a hospital. This isn't how she wanted to go. She would have rathered dying nobly, trying to stop a murderer. But no, the circumstances had turned against her, and now she was dying of stomach cancer.

How boring. How unoriginal. How could she tell Booth, the only person who could really support her? She couldn't. She would live with the decision forever, regretting it every day. But she couldn't bring herself to say it, to drop the bomb. What would she do? _Hi, Booth. I'm dying of a stomach cancer. Just thought you should know. Don't worry about me, I'll be fine. _

She didn't know what to do. A feeling that rarely occured in her life.

She thought about the day before. He had said he loved her. He loved her more then anything in this world. Brennan knew that he had meant that, and that was something that filled her heart. Someone actually loved her, and he wasn't lying.

She wasn't used to the feeling.

She had heard the sweetness in his voice. She wanted to hear it again, for him to say once more how he felt. For him to say it like he meant it.

He came in the room as soon as visiting hours were allowed. He greeted her, and then dragged the plastic chair over to the side of her bed, in the same gesture as the previous day.

Brennan was glad he didn't come bearing gifts.

He started with small talk; the weather, the hospital food, anything apart from the concept of love. But Brennan wasn't very responsive, and Booth soon gave up, thinking that he could avoid the subject no longer.

"Booth," she asked, more forceful then gentle. "I need to ask you something." It wasn't a question. It was Brennan being in charge, once again. "You said you love me."

"I do," he said, trying to sound convincing, thinking she was having second thoughts.

"I know that. Why do you do it?"

"What? You're not making much sense, not that that isn't unusual for me but-"

"You've saved my life multiple times, protected me in every situation. Why? What am I worth?"

Booth put his head down. She was always difficult. "You are worth my life, Bones. I would give you the world in a heartbeat. I would do anything to keep you alive. You're the only girl I ever gave all of my love to. I couldn't live with myself if I let you die."

He sat silently, and it was then that Brennan felt something, a force of electricity between them. It was at that moment that she truly believed in love at first sight. She had seen Booth many times before, of course, but she truly loved him. In that moment, she wanted to have a future with her partner, wanted to do everything she had dreamed of with him. She wanted to rin her hands over his thick muscles, to whisper into his ear how much she loved him. And she wanted to hear it back.

She let her mind wander. She was brought back to reality when Booth spoke up.

"And what about you?"

"What do you mean? I've never saved your life."  
"I'm pretty sure that's not the case, but that's not my question. What would you do for me?"

She thought about it. There were many things she wanted to say, but she needed something that summed it all up.

"I would die for you, Seeley Booth," she whispered. Little did he know how ironic those words were.

He reached forward, and stroked her cheek. She felt it burn under his palm. "And I would take a bullet for you," he said. "If anything happens to you, I will die. If anything happens to you, I would take a bullet. I would do anything to keep you safe," he promised.

She nearly cried out in protest. He had just promised that he would kill himself if anything happened to her. He couldn't have him dying just because of her. And she knew he would honour his promise. She had to make him break the promise.

But how could she? His eyes, so determined, so oblivious to any argument about the matter. She was speechless.

"Booth," she choked out, her voice catching. "You can't say that."

"I can," he argued. "And I will. You _are _my life now, and I can't live it without you."

"You have to..." she whispered.

She nearly smacked herself on the head. She had just blurted out that something was wrong. She knew he would question it. But his look, that beautiful jawline, the staggered stubble, had drawn her in, made her oblivious to her secret. And now she would pay the price.

He searched in her eyes. "What's wrong? You have to tell me, Bones. Maybe I can help."

She looked down, averting his eyes. She shook her head. Noone, or nothing, could help her now.

She had to tell him. But she couldn't. "I'm sick," she said simply.

"Why did you ask me those things? What I would do for you?"

"I wanted to hear it one last time."

He straightened up. "What's going on, Tempe," he asked sternly. "You say you're sick. But then you just said that I have to live my life without you, that you wanted to hear me say I love you one last time. I might be a bit slow on some things but this is as clear as water. Something's really wrong, Bones. And you need to tell me." He was trying to be soft yet demanding at the same time.

She could see no alternative route. She had to tell him. He wouldn't leave her alone unless she did.

She varied it slightly, though, not telling him the full extent of the illness.

"I have cancer. And I'm getting better, but I just wanted to hear you say you love me. I didn't want to worry you." Okay, so she varied it a lot. But she wanted him to believe she would be fine. Otherwise he would be a nervous wreck worrying about her every minute of the day.

"You should have told me," he said kindly, taking her face in his hands.

"I didn't want to scare you," she said. He was unleashing all his charm on her, and she was finding it hard to breathe. And then a sharp ripping pain ran through her. She doubled over, unable to stop herself.

"Bones?! What's wrong?! I'll get the doctor!"

"No," she wheezed. "I'm fine."

"Yeah, right. And I'm running for congress."  
"Don't call the doctor. It'll be over soon."

Booth still looked like he was going to argue, but found it best to do as she said. Soon she was sitting up normally again. Worry was etched into Booth's face.

"You see?" she said, trying to laugh. "This is why I didn't tell you."

He didn't find it very funny. "I'll be with you every step of the way. Know that."

"No, Booth. You can't. I don't want you getting involved if something turns bad."

"What do you mean?" he asked, a frown forming.

"If I don't get better..." which she wasn't..."I don't want you to do anything stupid. Promise me."

"Ok, but it's going to be hard."

She groaned. "I'm just going to..." she pointed towards the bathroom door, and jumped out of bed. She spent the next few minutes in the bathroom. She threw up more, nothing but blood. She was starting to get really worried – she wasn't getting _any_ better. The medication was doing absolutely nothing.

She stood up from the toilet, and then stumbled. The room spun around her. She reached out, planning to grab anything; the sink, the toilet, the wall. But her hands touched nothing but empty air. She crumpled to the ground, unable to stand any longer. A fire spread through her on impact, and she clutched her stomach. Its contents heaved up through her throat and she retched, blood spilling onto the floor. It caught in her throat, and she started choking.

Her airway stayed blocked. She couldn't breathe. She tried to call to Booth for help, but she couldn't get any air in her lungs. The white flashed behind her eyes, and she bent over in pain. She coughed more, trying to free her throat, but nothing came. She rolled over, the lack of air starting to get to her.

The room darkened, and the pain was swept away into a sea of white.

* * *

Slight cliffie. Sorry, I love cliffhangers. That's why a lot of chapters in my stories end with them. Please review - I'll love you! Ha ha seriously, though, please.

Thanks for reading!


	5. That's My Girl

Hey! sorry for taking awhile to update but i haven't had access to a computer for over a week. But now i do, so remember - the more reviews, the faster i type.  
Thanks for all the reviews I recieved last chapter! i love them. They make me feel warm and fuzzy - soz felt like saying that.  
Hope you're enjoying it so far. Please feel free to give me any ideas.

* * *

Booth heard a thump coming from the bathroom. His eyes moved sharply to the door. Should he go and see what the matter was? She was in a bathroom – anything could have happened. He decided to leave it a few minutes.

But no more sounds came from the bathroom. He became worried, and decided to check on Brennan. He cautiously moved over to the door, knocking softly.

"Bones?" he called.

He got no response. He knocked harder, called louder, but still she didn't answer him. He turned the handle. It was locked; of course it was! He barged his shoulder against the door, trying to open it. It refused to budge. He pulled out his gun, knowing he would be in trouble, and shot the lock. The door sprung open. He kicked it, and holstered the weapon before storming inside.

He nearly cried out.

He saw his partner, lying on the floor, surrounded by blood. It was everywhere – on the floor, on the toilet, on her clothes, and in her hair. He ran over to her still body. She was face down on the floor. He rolled her over.

She wasn't breathing.

"Bones!" he yelled, shaking her gently, trying to get a response, but none came. "Bones, come on! Can you hear me? Bones!"

Nothing worked. Hating to leave her, he ran back into the room and pressed the red button for help. Knowing it would take too long, he then ran over to the door, and forced it open.

"We need help in here!" he screamed into the waiting room to no one in particular. "She's unconscious on the floor in blood!"

That got people moving. Doctors began to swarm towards the room like flies drawn to fresh meat. He ran back to the bathroom, and held Brennan in his arms. He stroked her hair, and kissed her forehead. "Stay with me, Bones."

Doctors shuffled in. One bent down and felt her wrist. He looked up at Booth. "She's still alive."  
"But she's not breathing!" he said, exasperated.

The doctor opened Brennan's mouth, and tilted her head back in case her tongue was blocking her throat. But still she didn't breathe. He inspected inside. "There's blood blocking the throat. We need to give her air."

The doctors moved towards the bed, indicating that that was where they would oxygenate her. Booth slid his hand under Brennan's back, and lifted her up. Her head flicked back limply, her arms dangling by her side. Her face was pale.

So deathly pale.

He carried her to the bed, trying to place her down as quickly but as gently as he could. As soon as her back had hit the material the doctors were on her again, forcing Booth out of the way. He stood back, yet trying to see what they were doing, trying to make sure his partner was safe. They were huddled around her, as though doing surgery, yet Booth knew that this was no transplant.

He saw one of them pass a tube to another, and place it down her throat. Booth winced. He hated to see her like this, only staying alive because of artificial instruments. He knew she wouldn't like it.

But he knew she would be thankful that she was alive.

The panicked rush of doctors gradually started to ease. They slowly began to move back, to give her space, and Booth was able to push his way through, to grab his partners' hand and hold it in his own.

He looked back to one of the doctors. "Is she alive?" he asked. When doctors stopped working it meant one of two things; either she didn't make it or she had survived.

But to his relief, the doctor nodded. "She's responded to the provided oxygen. There was blood clotting her throat. Hopefully it will soon clear and she'll be breathing on her own again."

Booth looked back to his partner's face. She looked so beautiful, even just escaping death. He was glad to see her chest rise and fall. He saw her gown was stained, the warm, wet blood sticking the material to her chest. He squeezed her hand.

"When will she respond?" he asked, talking to the doctors but his eyes still on Brennan's face.

"Not too long now. A few minutes."

He heard their padded feet shuffle out of the door. The room turned quiet again, the silence broken only by the wheezing of Brennan as she used the tube to breathe.

He waited patiently, staring into her face. He dared not move away from the bed, in case she had another attack. He squeezed her hand again. He felt a squeeze in return. His heart nearly jumped out of his chest – she was alive! Well, he already knew that, but he was glad. For once, he needed proof. And here it was. She was breathing – with help, but still – moving, feeling.

And then she opened her eyes.

Her pupils moved to Booth. He could see the blue in them were faded, but still there. He leaned in closer.

"Hey!" he whispered. "How are you feeling?"

"I can't breathe properly..." she gasped. "Why can't I breathe?"

"You have help. Can you remember anything?"

He could see her eyes move slightly and her face frown in concentration. "I remember throwing up," she wheezed. "What happened to me?" She rolled her eyeballs down to her chest, and they opened wide when she saw the blood. She looked scared. Booth wasn't surprised. The last time she had woken up in blood she had been placed under drugs and had 'voodoo' amnesia.

He made what he hoped was a soothing noise. "Shhh. I don't know exactly what happened, but the doctors said that blood was blocking your throat."

He saw the fear in her eyes as the memory came flooding back. He watched her wince.

"I remember now..." she panted. "I threw up, and then started coughing. But the blood got stuck in my throat. I couldn't breathe!" she whispered. She was scared. He was glad he had noticed something was wrong, and hadn't just thought he was being overly paranoid – otherwise.....

"You're fine now. Don't talk about it."  
He saw her glance annoyingly at the tubes emitting from her mouth. "How long do I have to have _this _for?" she asked, displaying her distaste for the objects.

"Not long." He turned abruptly serious. "Bones, you lied to me."

"How?"

"You said you had cancer, but not badly. You said you were getting better. You said you would be fine. Obviously you're not fine, and you knew that. You knew you weren't getting better. Why didn't you tell me?"

She looked crestfallen that he had found out her secret. "I didn't want you to worry."

"Oh, Bones..." he whispered, and hugged her. He kissed the top of her head, and then moved down to her cheek, and then her neck. He was annoyed that he couldn't kiss her mouth, but he really didn't want her to start choking again.

"I'm sorry!" she whispered, tears forming. She quickly wiped them away, ashamed.

He hugged her again. "I'm not leaving this hospital until I know you're well again."

He could see she was about to argue. He stifled a laugh. That was his Bones.

_His _Bones.

She didn't disappoint. "That's not necessary. You need sleep. You probably haven't eaten. Go home!" It was very nearly a command.

But he could be very stubborn as well. "You know that's not going to happen. I can grab food here, and this couch," he nodded towards the faded blue lounge in to corner, "will do just fine as a bed. See?" he said, and stood up, walking over to the couch and flopped down on it. Then he tilted his head back, shut his eyes and started snoring. Brennan laughed. He jumped up and back over to her.

She tried to glare at him, wanting to win the argument, but his smile took over his face, and she had to give in. She knew she couldn't argue with him – his looks would get in the way, and she would probably babble on about something stupid, sounding nothing like herself. She groaned.

"Fine. Your choice. But it's your own fault if you get tired, or hungry, or bored. That's not my problem."

He hugged her once more. "That's my girl," he whispered into her hair.

He felt her face lift as she smiled into his shirt.

* * *

Look! No cliffhanger! that's a first. Please review - as i said, the more reviews, the faster I type.  
Thanks for reading! bobthetree123


	6. Of Life Or Love

hi, I'm back. Sorry for the length of time to update. Thanks for all the reviews - i really love them! anyway i won't interrupt you any more. Happy reading!

* * *

He now knew the truth. Not all of it, but he had caught the gist. She had cancer. Badly. She might still get well – he wasn't sure how serious it really was, but he was now more determined than ever to prove how much he loved her – not in the way that he would usually do, but as much as he could. He would come into the room every morning (she had finally convinced him to go home and sleep – he had been waking up with sore necks from sleeping on the couch), pull up the hard, plastic chair, drag it over to the bed, and hold her hand.

She could now breathe by herself, and he took advantage of that by kissing her lips often, determined to show her how much he loved her. He had waited years for this opportunity, to have her safe in his arms, actually his.

_His _Bones.

He had always called her that secretly in his head, but now he could say it out loud, and meaning it this time. She was his, available only to him, and he would hurt anyone who tried to come near her. He now felt protective of her more than ever, making sure she was perfect.

But he could see the hesitation in her eyes. Every time he bent to kiss her, he could see the blue in them sigh, as if desperate for him to realise that this was meant to be. But he didn't believe that – he knew that Brennan loved him, and her actions proved that she was in total devotion. But there was something there, something that Booth couldn't quite put his finger on.

He tried to persuade her to tell him how bad she truly was, but she was as stubborn as ever, saying that she would be fine. But Booth knew that she was lying. Every day that went past her face seemed to turn paler, her skin less prominent, her eyes fading colour. She would constantly keel over in pain, with him asking her if she was alright, with the same answer each time.

"I'm fine, Booth. It'll pass."

But he knew that she was not fine. He planned to talk to the doctor, to ask her what was wrong with her. He never liked to leave business unfinished, and this was no exception. If Brennan wouldn't tell him, the doctor would.

The doctor came in at 10, as she had every day. It was now becoming routine. Booth hoped it wouldn't be routine for too long. She took Brennan's blood test, recorded findings on the clipboard, and checked her pulse.

Booth waited until she was out of the door before he jumped up and ran after her. He saw Brennan's eyes – deathly objective, knowing what he was up to. But it was her own fault – she hadn't told him.

Booth ran out of the door, jogging after the doctor.

"Sam!" he called. He had seen the name on her badge every day, yet had never called her by her name. The blonde turned at the shout, and saw Booth. She recognised him immediately, and stopped, facing him.

Booth slowed in front of her. "Sam," he panted slightly, "I need to talk to you."

The doctor spread her palms, indicating the current area was sufficient.

"It's about Brennan. Your patient." Sam nodded – she understood who he was talking about. "Well, you see, I've asked her about her condition. But she won't tell me anything."

"What _has _she told you?" Sam asked. Her voice was slightly husky.

Booth thought back_. '__I have cancer. And I'm getting better, but I just wanted to hear you say you love me. I didn't want to worry you.'_

"She said she had cancer. That she was getting better. That she would be fine. That we'll be together soon."

Sam didn't comment on his love life. Clearly she had already worked out that something had been going on between them. She sighed. She knew that her patient, Brennan, had lied to him, and she wanted to give him the news as gently as she could. But she wanted to give him _all _the news. This man had a right to know, and he wanted to know, so that wasn't up to her.

"She has stomach cancer-"

"How bad?" he interrupted.

"Please, sir, just listen. She has stomach cancer, and it is only rarely lethal." His eyes momentarily widened at the word _lethal_, but he didn't interrupt. "We've given her medication, one which usually works on minor cases. But it does not seem to be working. Her symptoms were slight – nausea, loss of appetite, stomach pains, vomiting blood – and we expected her to recover quickly." She took a deep breath. Booth hesitated, wondering whether the news was good or bad. It wasn't looking too promising.

"But the medication doesn't seem to be working. The choking of blood the other day was severe – a sign that it was getting worse, as she was still coughing blood. We have doused more effective medication into her, but we are still waiting for results." She seemed to stop.

Booth raised his eyebrows, waiting for a final answer.

"I'm sorry, sir. But there is a good chance she may die. If this medication does not work....there is nothing else we can do. I'm truly sorry."

Booth straightened up. He hadn't noticed it, but he had been leaning in, to hear every word. He sighed.

"I should have expected it. She didn't tell me. Obviously she didn't want to upset me, which is what she's been saying. But...wow! I didn't think that it would be this bad. I mean, I could see she was getting worse, but I didn't know it was lethal!"

Sam bowed her head in sorrow. "I am really sorry, sir." With that, she slowly turned and continued down the hall.

Booth stood still on the white tiles, running his hands through his hair. That news had come as a blow to him, but he was glad he now knew the extent of her injuries. Now all he had to do was to face her, and pretend she would be fine. He wondered if she knew she could die.

He slowly walked back to the room, wondering how he would keep the news a secret. She seemed to discover everything.

He wondered if she was well enough to discover this.

*

She wasn't prepared. She never could have been. Then again, she never expected that she would be in that position, in between the forces of good and evil, of truth or lie, of life or love.

*

She knew he had gone for answers. Every time he kissed her he had been hesitant, making sure not to hurt her, not to damage her fragile body. But he never knew the extent of her injuries. And she knew that he would not leave the doctor until he had answers.

The look on his face when he entered was enough. He could see the mask of sympathy, trying to cover the hurt that lay beneath. He was trying to be kind, to act as he always did. But the truth could not stay silent forever.

And as he had once said, _everything happens eventually._

Including knowledge.

She knew he would not say anything on the matter. So she would have to be the first to raise it.

"She told you." It was meant to sound like a question, curious. But it came out flat and empty.

It sounded of defeat. Something that rarely happened to Brennan.

Booth nodded. "Stomach cancer."

"Yes. I'm sorry, I-"

She didn't finish. He had walked over to her in three quick strides and kissed her on the mouth. She rose out of the bed slightly, to savour the kiss as much as she could. The kiss was not of soft compassion and kindness as it usually was, but of pure passion. He knew she had a deadline. Knew he must make as many moves as he could.

Too bad she was in a hospital bed; otherwise she would gladly have ripped his shirt.

She grabbed his collar, but he broke the kiss, stepping back. He stroked her face gently, cherishing the moment.

It was too good to be true.

Really, it was.

And she was about to break his heart.

She couldn't do it.

But she had to.

She couldn't hurt him any more.

She sighed.

"Booth..."

"Shhh. It's okay." He stroked her face.

"No, it's not," she whispered, and unwillingly pulled his hand away from her face, instead twining it in her own. Booth looked concerned. She knew it was about to get a whole lot worse.

"Booth. I have to tell you something. Important."

His expression remained the same. It looked as though he didn't really care what she said, as long as she was okay.

"Say anything, Bones. Anything."

"This can't go on."

Booth reeled back in shock, his expression shattering his face. Brennan nearly cried out seeing him so hurt. She knew what he was feeling, but it was nothing compared to her. She knew that they had both waited years to be together, and had cherished the times they had, and now she had broken it off.

Booth was lost for words. "B-But....why? I mean, you didn't seem to mind. We can stop if you want, if you feel uncomfortable, but please, just tell me why." His eyebrows were raised in a desperate plea, wanting, _needing _answers.

She couldn't tell him the truth. Not all of it, anyway. "Of course I don't mind. I just think..." she stalled. "I liked what we had. And I think this relationship could ruin our work relationship." She looked sheepishly at the sheets, entwined underneath her hands. She didn't want to look into his eyes, scared of what she might find, what emotion lay hidden beneath the dark brown abyss.

But Booth seemed fine. "Ok, we'll stop. If you're uncomfortable, we'll stop." She could feel the pain in his voice. She knew he hated saying those words. She loved how everything he did was for her. If she wanted it, she got it. No matter what the consequences.

"I'm sorry, Booth." She saw a salty tear fall from her face and onto the blanket. Why was she crying? She never cried! She was a strong woman! But she knew that sometimes one must let out emotions.

This was one of those times.

She felt feather-light fingers on her chin, and they applied gentle pressure, forcing her head up. She lifted her eyes until they levelled with his, trying to stop the flow of tears.

"Hey, it'll be okay."

She nodded, not believing it, and knowing he didn't either. Nothing would be the same again.

But she was ashamed. She couldn't tell him the real reason she had broken the relationship. Couldn't face the truth. But she knew the truth.

She wanted Booth to be prepared when her death arrived.

As she now knew it. She had thought that her days would end soon, but didn't give it much credence. But now she felt it in her heart that she was dying. That soon she would never see Booth again. If she were in a relationship, it would be twice as hard as if they were just partners.

But now she regretted the decision. Even if they were apart, the death would still hit him just as hard. She knew he loved her and whether she allowed him to prove that or not didn't matter.

He would be heartbroken when her death arrived.

But he seemed to accept her initial response. Her reasoning was one of history. One well known to him. That people could not have a relationship in a workplace. And she knew this would work, as she now believed that he knew she would get better, that they would be in the workplace once more.

But this could never happen.

Booth kept his hand on her chin, his eyes calm but disappointed.

She would always love him, no matter what happened.

*

She wasn't prepared. She never could have been. Then again, she never expected that she would be in that position, in between the forces of good and evil, of truth or lie, of life or love.

* * *

Hey watdyaknow! Once again no cliffhanger! sorry guys, but my chapters alwways seem to end in cliffhangers, so its rare when they dont.  
Please review. I'd LOVE to hear your thoughts and comments on this chapter.  
Till next time!


	7. Unprofessional

Thankyou for all the reviews, guys. They have really pushed my enthusiasm. And i hope this chapter doesn't drag on too much - you get the POV of BOOTH!

* * *

Booth shouted meaningless words into his pillow, and then rolled over onto his back, staring at the white ceiling above him. Sweat gathered on his forehead, and he wiped it away with the back of his hand. His eyebrows seized together in frustration, and he quickly rolled back over to let it out into his pillow. He lifted his head, seeing crescent bite marks patterning the pillow. He turned onto his back, and thumped his head back down.

Why? Why did it always happen to him? And it was always her. She always tortured him, forcing him to keep his emotions to himself. How many times he had wanted to call her in the middle of the night, just to hear her voice. How many times he stared when she bent over in the lab, her shirts revealing more then she often cared to show. How many times he had dreams about her perfect face. How many times he wanted to tell her he loved her, and mean it, and not to turn it to crap of 'I love you as a partner, in a professional way.'

And then she had agreed for them to move on, to increase that spark that had always been there between them. _She _had been the one to agree to this relationship. _She _had been the one to believe it would be alright, that it could work. And now _she _was the one to break it off. Why? Because it was _unprofessional. _Oh, how he wanted to give _her _unprofessional!

He sighed in frustration, and reached back, grabbing the pillow between his hands. He threw the pillow onto his thighs, then brought it up again, and slapped it down again.

It did absolutely nothing.

Instead he smacked the pillow onto his face, smothering his angry expression with the white cotton. How could he have been so stupid as to believe that she would be fine with it? That it would all work out? That they could go walking out onto the street, hell, into the Jeffersonian, holding hands, without having to hide. He truly believed it could work.

She had lost faith in him once again.

But there was something he couldn't quite grasp. He didn't believe one word that she had ended the relationship because of work. Something was holding her back, and Booth was determined to find out what it was. But he had a feeling that it had to do with her illness.....

But it was too late to do that now, actually, now too early. Looking at the luminescent alarm clock, Booth saw that the digits read 1:03. Last time he had checked the time had been 11:56. Pm.

He threw his hands up to his head, removing the pillow. His hair dishevelled from the sudden movement and he ran his hair through it. It felt greasy under his hands. He needed a shower. He hadn't showered in days, too worried about Bones. He had cut work just to see her, to justify that she would get through another day. He didn't know how each day would turn out now. He supposed it would be awkward, the silence broken by her, with her stupid. Anthropological. Crap.

Shit, this would turn out bad.

He groaned and sat up, running his hand through his hair, ruffling it up to give it some character. He stumbled to the shower, holding onto the doorframe to keep himself upright. He caught a look in the mirror, and nearly didn't recognise himself. His chin was covered with thick stubble, and his hair sat in all directions from his new style of combing. He had circles under his eyes from his loss of sleep. Somehow he looked slightly thinner in his face – he hadn't eaten too much in the past few weeks. His eyes were a darker brown – not the rich colour it usually was, but a dank, dull colour. He wiped his hand over his face, trying to remove the mask of despair. He had definitely seen better days.

He threw off his undershirt and boxers, and then stepped into the shower, turning the taps of full blast. The hot water scathed his skin but he ignored the pain. He had faced a lot worse than burning water. Heartbreak, for example.

He wondered why he was so emotional. He had broken up with women before, been broken up _by_ women, and yet he had never felt this level of despair. Sure, he had been upset when Rebecca rejected him, and Tessa broke it off after weeks of going out, but this felt different, more personal somehow.

He knew the answer.

This was _Bones. _The Bones who was always arguing with him, the Bones that refused to be swayed in her beliefs, the Bones who said whatever came to mind, the Bones that he had loved for years and had never gotten to be with.

The Bones who he always knew that, in some way or other, would break his heart.

What could he do? He knew he didn't have much choice. One, in fact. He had to let it go. He knew it would be one of life's hardest lessons, to let go of the love of your life, but he had to. He couldn't ruin what they had. _She wouldn't have wanted this, _his subconcious told him. _She wants what's best._

Screw that.

He needed her. He hadn't told anyone this, but the reason he didn't have multiple girlfriends like Hodgins or other guys his age was because he was always waiting for Brennan. Always waiting for that moment when they could become one. Waiting for her okay, so he could make the first move.

And now the time had come, and he was nowhere.

He wondered what Bones was feeling. Sadness? Loss? Joy? _No. She wouldn't be happy about it. She can't be. _But he wasn't sure – Bones' mind worked different to everyone elses.

He couldn't wait anymore. He had to go and see her. He didn't know what he would say, but he couldn't just sit here doing nothing.

He stepped out of the shower, the sudden cold piercing his skin. He grabbed a fluffy white towel, rubbing it all over his body. He slid back into his boxers and socks, and walked back to the bed. He sat on the edge of it and put his head in his hands. He was a mess. He lay back down on the mattress, closing his eyes. But he was haunted by fears, and opened them again.

He turned his head over to the left side, his eyes searching for the bright red lights of the clock. He groaned. 2:30.

He couldn't do anything. Visiting hours started at 9. He groaned again, a deep, gutural sound emitting from deep within his throat. He was surprised at the sound – it sounded so harsh. He was impatient, and didn't have anything but his own thoughts to pass the time.

*

Failing to fall back to sleep, Booth climbed out of bed, and stumbled forward in the dark, searching for the light switch. His hands felt the familiar button, and he pressed it. He was nearly blinded by the sudden light, and coudn't see clearly for a few minutes. Nonetheless, he walked forwardto his dresser, reaching in and pulling out sweats, his trainers and an iPod.

He made his way out of the house, shutting the door behind him. As soon as he hit the pavement he started running. His legs welcomed the excercise. He drew the iPod out of his pocket, switching the player to screaming music that noone could understand the words to. He turned it up nearly full volume, the bass thumping into his brain. With the music along with the thumping of his feet on the cement, he achieved his overall goal – he couldn't think.

Soon his legs began to tire, but he ran on, letting the pain flow into him. _Bones is in pain, _he thought. _I deserve it too._ This thought kept him going. He still felt full of emotion – hurt, anger – and they started to ebb away with every step he took. Soon he was filled only with the music – no thoughts escaped through its walls, and this pleased him. He didn't have to think about anything.

He ran on into the dark. Looking at his watch, he saw it was 3:25. Still too early. He could keep running. That's what he did. It was so natural; he didn't have to think about it. Just put one foot in front of the other. His rhythm stayed the same, his feet began to hurt. Hus lungs burned with the effort of breath, sweat rolled down his face, arms and chest, and his stomach groaned with hunger. Still he pressed on.

He decided he should turn back only when he could no longer breath. He had to lie down for several minutes, knowing he shouldn't, but did it anyway. The return trip would be torture.

He arrived home shortly after 4am. With nothing to do, he stripped to his boxers, and sat down at the breakfast table, staring at the polished wood, willing it to give him answers.

It came up with nothing.

The rest of the morning he spent catching up on work he had missed. He called his office, asking for all his paperwork, though not much had come through because he had been with Bones, and she hadn't done any cases. While he had been away, another agent had been assigned to help the squints.

He hoped he could return soon. With Bones.

But for some reason, his inner mind had a slight doubt.

_She's dying_, it pressured.

_Shut up,_ the larger section answered. It refused to believe that Bones was dying.

But what if it was right?

*

Finally 8:45 came. Booth was ready to go, and grabbed his car keys off the counter, running out the door. He raced his SUV to the hospital, parking illegally. He raced in the door. He didn't know what the hurry was – she would be fine, as usual.

He raced past the reception desk, anxious to see her porceilan face. The receptionist stood up as he walked swiftly past. He worried that they would tell him it wasn't visiting hours yet. The clock on the wall read 8:58.

Screw them.

But the receptionist called after him. "Mr Booth?"

He turned at the sound of his name. How did they know it? Then again, he had been in here every day for the past 3 weeks. He pedalled on towards the closed door.

"Mr Booth!" the receptionist called, anxious now.

"What?" he asked, turning. He was annoyed that she had stopped him from seeing Bones.

"Um," she seemed hesitant. "You can't go in there."

"Why not?" he was frustrated and impatient now. This girl was just wasting his time.

"Because...." she paused. "Miss Brennan.....died....this morning."

* * *

ANOTHER CLIFFY! What do ya know. I know a lot of people are gonna hate me right now, but thats too bad. My story, my way. I hope the beginning didn't drag on too much but i didn't want to make the chapter too short.

So please review and give me your ideas on how you like/dislike the story or any criticism on my writing, or any other type of comment you can think of. Thanks guys!


	8. Forever

As i predicted, a lot of people now hate me for what I did to Brennan. But you can't say I didn't warn you - I did tell you it was going to be an angst story.z

Now, in this chapter there is a lot of stuff to do with a hospital. Being as young as i am i have no experience for the technical side and apologize if i get any of the details wrong. Feel free to correct me.

Thankyou for all the reviews. Most of them were kind of harsh, but I did say that you could make any sort of comment you want. so feel free to do that againt this chapter.

Now people are wondering why I killed off Bones. I'll tell you why. You read soo many stories in which the character has an illness of some sort and they somehow manage to survive and get well. The fact is we all need a good dose of character death once in a while, without al the crap of 'they were saved'. Brennan had a lethal stomach cancer. It killed her. I didn't like to write it, but if everyone wrote just romance this website would be totally boring. So I know that people hate me for what i did, but i did it for a reason.

Apart from that, please read on! And thankyou for actually bothering to read it at all. You've come this far and survived. I hope you can live through this chapter.

* * *

He was struck to the core. This couldn't be true. It just couldn't. Not Bones! Not strong, tough Bones.

_I hate to say I told you so! _His inner voice thought. He silenced it.

He sat down in the plastic hospital chair, his head in his hands. His mind was blank, nothing running through. He rocked backwards and forwards slightly, regaining feeling in his legs, but then stood up, and began pacing once more. He walked over to the desk. The receptionist looked up, her eyes kind.

"I'm sorry, Mr Booth," she said. He expected her to sound routine, as though she had done this many a time. But she sounded deeply sympathetic, and he tried to smile in return. "She passed away about 15 minutes ago. The doctors will soon be preparing her for her leave to the morgue."

"When...can I see her?" he gasped out.

"What do you mean?" she asked.

"When can I see Bones?"

The receptionist didn't know who he was talking about, but he assumed it to be Dr Brennan. "I'm sorry, sir. But you can't."

"I have to see her..." he was talking more to himself, or rather, his hands, then to the receptionist. "I have to see my partner."

"Sir, I'm truly sorry, but you can't-"

"Where is she?" he was out of control. He needed to see her pale face once more, her eyes lit up with science and the joy of life. She seemed so happy. He stepped away from the desk and started down the corridor, intent on walking....anywhere. Away from that waiting room.

"_Where is she?!" _His voice was almost animal a howl into the storm of the waiting room. Fortunately there were only few to hear his distressed cries. He turned and started to walk intently further down the corridor. He could hear the receptionist getting up from her desk to prevent him form walking...where? Only now could he focus on his destination – the double blue doors at the end of the corridor. In there he could talk to doctors, pull out his gun and threaten them to tell him where Bones was.

"Sir!" he heard the shout from behind him, but ignored it. "Sir, stop! You're unpermitted to access that area!"

He kept walking, determined for answers. He could hear the girl running now, trying to stop him. He walked faster, his long strides no match for her short skips in a tight skirt. He was soon only metres away from the doors.

"Mr Booth! Stop!"

He swung around and pulled out his gun. He hated to do this to the girl, but he just wanted to see his precious partner one more time, to lay her peacefully to rest. He knew she wouldn't have been wanted to be lay by doctors. She hated them.

The girl stopped, terrified. She brought her hands palm-up, her mouth quavering. Booth drew up his belt to show he was FBI.

"I'm not going to shoot you." The girl didn't relax. She was terrified to have a gun pointing at her. "I just want to know where my partner is."

She shook her head. Either she didn't know, or she refused to spill. Either way, he wasn't going to find out through her. In one quick movement, he spun around, pushed open the double doors, and stepped inside the doors, hearing the gasp from the receptionist. Clearly her job was to _prevent _visitors from entering the area.

As soon as he was in he called out, wanting to show immediately that he wasn't there for funny business. He was serious.

"Alright, everybody stop!" His voice rang aorund the large room. Everyone stopped – doctors, nurses, grad students. Their eyes were immediately drawn to the black gun which Booth held steadily in his hand. Then their eyes flashed to the FBI badge he held up.

"Ok. A female named Dr Temperance Brennan apparantly died this morning. I need to know where she is and who was with her. Or, someone named Sam." Quiet chatter smoothed around the room as they recognised the name. "I, uh, she is part of a case we are working on, and we, uh, need to examine her."

He had no idea if this would work. He didn't know how it worked. It was always Bones getting the bodies, and him just doing the detective work. He would have to dig deeper.

Noone seemed to respond. "_WHERE IS SHE_?!" he bellowed. He saw a few people take a step back.

He saw someone push through the mass of blue, and he recognised Sam. She grabbed his arm and led him into an adjoining room. Silence followed them. Sam shut the door behind them, and soon they could hear the quiet buzz of chatter of the situation and the squeak of wheels on the cold floor.

"What the hell did you do that for?!" Sam whispered. "You should have just asked for me at the reception desk!"

Booth felt like a fool now.

"Where is she?" he growled. "You were in charge. Where is she? I know you know, Sam, so there's no point lying. I am a special agent, and catching people lying is sort of my specialty. So don't try."

His face was blunt, his eyes; dead. He was utterly solemn. He saw Sam's shoulders lower in defeat as she heaved a sigh. "Follow me."

He felt foolish as she lead him right back out the double doors. Her padded shoes tapped softly on the hard floor as she led him back to Brennan's room.

Why didn't he check there in the first place?!

Knowing he was about to enter the room where his partner lay lifeless made him doubled over, his breathing gradually speeding up. Sam glanced behind her. "Are you okay?"

He waved his hand at her, issuing her to go on. She walked to the blue door.

"Are you sure you want to do this? I mean, you could just be having a frenzy. This is going to be hard, no matter how tough you think you are."

He knew she was right. This would be extremely hard for him. But the fact that he hadn't been able to say goodbye cut a deep hollow in his chest. He felt as if his heart had been torn out.

_That's impossible, Booth. _Brennan's voice floated into the back of his mind, correcting him as usual. _You can't tear out a heart, it's impossible. It's held by multiple other organs and can only be detached once dead, and clearly you are not dead, Booth. _He didn't cut her off. He was glad to hear her voice, even the ghost of it.

He followed Sam into Brennan's room, following the route he had taken every day for weeks. She walked as far as the door, and allowed Booth to walk right in, and up to the bedside as usual. Except this time Brennan was not sitting up, awaiting his arrival, no happy smile playing on her lips, lighting up her porceilan face. Instead she was laying flat down, her face skywards, studying the roof.

Her eyes were shut, whether by the doctors or herself was unclear. He lips were very slightly parted. Her face was deathly pale. She looked as if she were asleep with a fever.

If only that was the situation.

Booth felt torn. This was extremely hard for him. But the fact that his last thoughts about her was how selfish she was struck him to the core.

He stroked her face. He realised that she had been lying to him the whole time. She knew she wasn't healing, that she would die. She didn't tell him to protect him, to save him from the grief.

It was all becoming clear now.

She broke up with him so that he would be prepared for her death, so he wouldn't have to face losing a girlfriend. But it was worse.

Much worse.

He had lost his partner, his best friend, his love. It didn't matter that they weren't a thing – he loved her. No amount of preperation could have made him conquer this hurdle. But it wasn't a hurdle to him. It was a huge, brick wall that he couldn't get past.

He couldn't get over the fact that he would never hear her again, never hear her correct him once more, or give him the scientific details of any metaphor. Never hear her unforgettable 'I don't know what that means' to every pop culture reference. Never hear her happy exclamations when they solved a case.

He would never see her pale face lit up with excitement, or drawn with tiredness, horror, or fury. He'll never get to fulfill his dreams of making love to her, either, something that he wanted to do when she left the hospital, now that she knew he loved her. The fact she had broken up with him made it slightly harder.

He rubbed his hand on her cheek, trying to bring colour into it. But he knew that it would stay white, the blood drained, forever.

He knew she would never have wanted to die like this.

He turned to see Sam and realised she was gone, outside to give Booth privacy. He could take as much time as he wanted, and Booth knew this would be the last time he would ever see his partner.

If only he had realised yesterday. He could have talked to her. Smiled with her once more, have her laughter etched into his brain.

He looked down upon her calm face, carefree to the suffering world around her. He knew she wouldn't want him to suffer over her death, to cry over her body.

He bent down and kissed her forehead, and stroked her deep brown hair out of her eyes. Sam had been right. It was harder then anything he had ever done. He remembered the words Brennan had whispered to him. _'I would die for you, Seeley Booth.' _She had died for him. His worst fear. An innocent woman, a friend, had died, and though it wasn't his fault, he felt guilty.

He stopped thinking. This would be the last time he would see her. She looked so pretty, her face the cutest for miles around. He didn't know how he could live without her, how he could solve cases without her. It would be hard. Harder then any mission he had ever strived to achieve.

He heard ruckus outside, and heard the deep rumble of a doctor's voice. He knew he was running out of time. He bent down, and kissed Brennan's forehead, her cheek, and finally, her lips. They were as cold as her skin.

He straightened up, and took one last look at her before turning and walking out of the door, away from the person he cared most about in this world.

Away from his Bones.

Forever.

* * *

I'm sorry if that was a really boring chapter for some people. As i said, I'm sorry if i got any details wrong.

Please feel free to make any sort of comment you want - nice, harsh, corrective, boring. any. i love them all the same, and any suggestions are really great.

Thanks for reading! :) Till next time


	9. She Will Be Missed

Hey, me again. thankyou all for the reviews. Special thanks to Rachel Brick. :)

I've tried not to make this too boring. It's meant to be really emotional. Let's just hope that's how it turns out.

Just to let you know, I hadn't actually time-lined this story. But I love Zack so this story involves Zack. Also, at the end, it says she died in 2007, which is somewhere around the 3rd season. But it really has no actual time-line. so please try and go along with it. That'd be really great.

* * *

All he felt like doing was going home. Drown in his sorrows. Drink until he felt numb.

But he knew he had to tell the squints. He didn't want to imagine their faces when he told them the news. He knew that even he would be heartbroken at their shocked expressions.

He slowly drove to the Jeffersonian, taking the corners gently and making the drive as time-consuming as possible. But everyone's journey comes to an end at some point. He parked the car on the street and slowly walked into the building.

His shoulders were slumped when he walked in. He saw Angela run up to him. She was about to hug him, and then saw his expression.

"Hi," he said, full of pain.

"That is not a happy hi." She looked into his eyes, her own filled with concern. "Is everything alright? How's Bren doing?"

Booth looked down at his hands. He new that this news would hit Angela the hardest. They had been friends for years, and Angela had showed Brennan the good life. Angela cared a lot for her.

He tried to break the news as gently as possible. "Temperance...." he managed. He suddenly felt dizzy and had to steady himself against the wall.

Booth saw realization spark Angela's eyes. His voice, his expression, the use of her first name. It all symbolized...

Angela's hands flew to her mouth, stifling a scream. Tears immediately began to fall down her cheek. Botoh reached forward and wiped them away, and then drew her into a hug. He felt Angela's arms squeeze his stomach, holding him tight. He rested his head on hers.

Over her head, he saw Hodgins, Cam and Zack run over. Angela heard the footsteps and loosened her grip, turning. The others took in both of their faces, the tears streaming down Angela's, and the dead look in Booth's eyes.

"What happened?" Cam asked. "Is everything alright?"

Hodgin's eyes were wide, flicking from Booth's face to Angela's. He was worried.

Zack stood behind them, confused.

Booth tried once again to explain, hoping they would get the picture so he didn't have to say the word. Then again, these were squints, and they took their time understanding normal language. Especially Zack.

"Temperance.....died this morning."

Cam's reaction as very similar to Angela's. Her hand immediately covered her mouth, her eyes opened wide, and tears began to stream. Hodgin lowered his head, blinking mulitple times, but Booth could see the salty water running. Zack stood still, fists clenched. Booth had forgotten – Zack reacts differently to the average person.

Cam was the first to regain strength. "How?"

Booth swallowed. "She had Gastro- stomach cancer."

"Gastroesophageal cancer," Zack offered, and then backed off, realising now wasn't the best time.  
"Yeah, whatever. Apparantly it can be lethal. They gave her medicine, but...." He looked down, and sighed. "I should have been with her."

Angela looked up at him. "Booth, don't blame yourself. This was not your fault. Do you know how she got it?"

"No idea."

Everyone was silent, grieving their loss.

"How can we work?" Zack questioned. "I don't know everything, yet. She was still teaching me. I need her permission for access to-"

"Zack!" Cam interrupted. "We will continue how we always do if Brennan is away somewhere. But now...." She turned to face him directly, looking him in the eye. "You will now become our full-time anthropologist."

Zack was silent, shocked. Clearly he was stunned by both the death and the promotion. But it was clear he wasn't happy about the sudden endorsement, as he had gained it only by death.

"When's the funeral?" Hodgins asked, his voice choking. He looked up at Booth.

Booth looked up at the roof and put his hands behind his head. "I don't know. I'll call the funeral guys and see the closest appointment." Suddenly Booth thought of something. "What's the date?" he asked out loud.

Hodgins looked down at his watch. "Twenty-fifth. Why?"

Booth swallowed. Angela thought, and then gasped as it hit her. Booth nodded. "What?" Cam asked.

"Next week was Bones' birthday."

Cam's hands went to the hollow of her throat in shock. "We can't bury her on her birthday."

"No, of course not. That would be a crappy birthday present," Booth stated, trying, and failing, to crack a joke. "We'll do it the day after. That would be a....Wednesday. I'll call the guys."

He automatically walked to Brennan's office. He always used her phone. He realised where he was only when he had stepped in the room, and he regretted it immediately. He could smell..._her_. Everywhere. A mixture of a type of perfume, bone and daisy's. He inhaled deeply, and then walked over to the desk.

He stood behind it, and memories hit him so hard he had to lean on the desk for support and breathe heavily. He had had many good and bad times in here. The mistletoe kiss. Trying to persuade her that she wasn't to have a gun. Those multiple times where he just stared at her and smiled. Those multiple times where they spent five minutes arguing.

He sat down in her chair and reached for the phone. In doing so his palm nudged the computer mouse, and the screen flashed to life. He saw the desktop, the Jeffersonian logo blinking at him. He saw a tiny document in the corner. A word document. He knew he shouldn't be doing this, but he was curious. The document wasn't labelled. For all he knew, it could be work. He clicked it open.

The first page displayed white with one single sentence in the middle. He felt his heart soar.

_This book is dedicated to my life partner, friend, and love, Special Agent Seeley Booth._

He had dedicated a book to him before, but she had never said that he was her _love._ It meant something to him, deep in his heart.

He shut the screen off when he heard enclosing footsteps. He reached for the phone, and pulled the earpiece off its cradle. He looked up as Hodgins walked in. Booth raised his eyebrows.

"Yes?"

Hodgins looked at the floor. "I just want to say I'm so sorry, man. I know how close you two were. I'm really sorry."

Botoh smiled. "I'm sorry too, Hodgins. I'm sorry too." He watched Hodgins walk out the door. Booth knew their friendship would grow slightly. And he knew that he had to keep working. He couldn't stop working the cases. Except now Zack would become his anthropologist.

Great.

Booth reached to dial the number to the funeral home.

*

No-one worked any new cases for the rest of the week. It didn't feel right. Instead, tidying up began, old bones boxed and stored. Everyone was silent while they worked, their faces forlorn and pitiful. The usually joyful air was dead, and talking was only if a question needed to be asked. Movements were slow, as if their joints had been sore for weeks and needed getting used to. Booth didn't blame them – it didn't feel right, working without Brennan. It was unnatural. This was where she belonged.

As he wasn't needed, Booth stayed at home, a bottle of whisky cradled in his arms. He didn't usually drink obsessively, but he needed something to sooth his sorrows. But after a day of nothing but drinking and TV, he knew she wouldn't have wanted him to be like this. Instead he cleaned up the house, something he hadn't done in weeks because he had been with Brennan. Clothes lay strewn around everywhere. He found a jacket that Brennan had left long ago. He brought it to his nose, inhaling deeply. It was that same scent – the scent of Bones.

*

Wednesday came. It was a sunny, yet cloudy day. The sun shone brightly in the bright sky, but clouds of dreariness circled everyone at the funeral. There were at least a hundred people. Botoh recognised many of them – people that Brennan had helped solve the case to. She had renewed their life, and now they were here to say goodbye to hers. They owed her their thanks.

He also saw many people that he assumed to be well-loved fans of her. He knew sales would rise because of her death, and he felt sad knowing that he would never read another again.

He also saw people who he assumed to be people from the Jeffersonian.

The priest droned on. Angela, Hodgins, Cam, Goodman, Zack, Sweets, Russ, and Max were circled around him. At some point each one of them patted his shoulder.

Each knew that he had been the closest to Brennan, no matter how many relatives were there.

As soon as it was time to lay a rose, he stepped forward first. He carried a large bunch of deep red daffodils. Her favourite flower. He laid them on her casket; a deep brown wood, with golden handles. He eyed the picture which lay on it. She was smiling, taken on one of her vacations. She looked happy. Booth picked up the photograph, kissed it, and then gently laid it back down again. He wanted to say many words, say every single sentence that he had wanted to say since he first saw her. But he knew that could take a while. He said the first thing that meant the most to him.

"I always loved you."

With that he stepped back, letting Angela move forward to lay her own flowers. She joined him, and soon, one by one, his fellow teamates and associates placed their flowers and memories with Brennan. They joined him, and swam in the joint sorrow. Angela put a hand on his shoulder. They watched as the rest of the ceremony layed their wreaths, and then stood back. In every direction tears flowed, even from the people who only vaguely knew her. But the most came from Booth. Silent, they flowed like rivers on either side of his face. He felt Angela's hand on his arm. Her face was strewn with water too. She smiled weakly at him.

"Hey, it's going to be okay."

He nodded. She hugged him, a hug that was full of sympathy and understanding. So unlike the ones he was used to from Brennan, and yet so similar.

He would return, he promised himself. Every day, he would return, and tell her everything that flowed in his heart about her. Everything he had wanted to say to her. She had never believed in talking to dead people, but Booth knew she would appreciate the effort.

Finally they lowered her into the ground. He read the headstone.

_Temperance Brennan._

_Beloved sister, daughter, partner, and friend._

_1976 – 2007._

_She will be missed._

* * *

I only put 2007 on the tombstone because I had to put some sort of date, as i said. Anyway, hopefully you bared with me during it.

Please review. I always love reviews - any kind. They really make my day. I really want to try and get over 10. I'd love it if i did.

Thanks for reading


	10. Sobbing Memories

Omg. Thankyou everyone so much for the reviews. I wasn't expecting that many, but since i got them I immediately started writing again.

This story is dedicated to my best friend Emily (Emilijah and the girls), who is as much of a bones fanatic as I am.

Thanks for those who corrected my last chapter. I havn't changed anything, but tried to correct things this chapter. Hope that helps :)

* * *

"_Seeley," she asked, using the same techniques as he. "I need to ask you something."_

_Seemingly glad to get out of the awkward moment, though scared of what she might ask, he sat forward slightly, his face only millimetres from hers._

"_What?" he asked, whispering._

"_You have to think about this carefully. It's pretty big."_

_Booth nodded. He was willing._

_She took a deep breath, and then prepared herself for his face of shock._

*

"Do you love me?" she whispered, her face a mask of wonderment, embarrasement and awkwardness.

Booth tried not to scoff. "Of course, Bones," he said, as gently and carefully as he could.

She shook her head. "No, I mean, more then partners. Do you really love me, Booth?"

He didn't even have to think twice about it. "Temperance," he said, staring into her pleading eyes. "I love you more then I have ever loved anyone before. You have made my life...my life. I could not have lived it without you, and I don't know how I did before you came into it. I love you more then anything in this world, Temperance. Nothing can change that."

She smiled, though it was a sad smile. She felt his hand flow down her cheek, coming to rest on her jawline.

"Why?" he asked.

She was hesitant with her answer. She didn't want to tell him the real reason for her wonder, but she needed to sound believable. Unfortunately, she wasn't good at lying or making people believe her deception. "I've always known that you loved me. I just wanted to hear it, before...." she paused, only for a second, but Booth caught the scent. He straightened up.

"Before what? What happened?" he asked. Concern danced in his eyes. She looked away shamefully, but determined to keep the truth to herself. She knew she was hurting Booth, but she didn't want to break his heart with the news.

"Nothing," she said, gathering her thoughts. She backpedalled. "I just need to know before we get out of here."

"Does this change anything?" he asked, worried that he might have ruined everything.

Her eyes were gentle. "Maybe. Nothing bad, though. It may just change our future."

He seemed satisfied with her answer, believing her unfaithful words. She knew that she would never get out of here, that they would never have a future. _No, _she said bravely to herself. _I can fight this. It's only sometimes lethal. Nothing bad has happened yet. I can still survive._

She put on a brave face, to assure Booth that she was fine and well. She knew that before long he would start to see holes in her happiness, but for now he was content. She gazed down at her hands, not sure that if she looked into his eyes he would see the truth that lay behind them. She saw Booth notice her gaze, and soon his hands were on hers once more.

"Booth?" she whispered. Somehow it seemed appropriate to whisper, even though the hospital was loud with noisy patients, screaming for their parents or crying at the sight of a needle.

He glanced warily up at her. "Yeah?"

She hesitated. She knew how sissy this would sound, but she needed to say it. "I...would...uh..." she chickened out. "I'm really tired."

Booth nodded. "I'm sorry. I've kept you from your sleep. You must be exhausted." He helped cover her in the stiff, cold blankets, and added an extra pillow behind her head. He only stopped fussing when he was satisfied that she was comfortable.

He reached down and gently laid a kiss on her forehead. Her eyes sparkled, from his touch, or just life in general he couldn't tell. He then moved down to her lips, and softly brushed his against hers. She didn't move, and seemed to accept him. But she was in no fit state to add any movement, and so she let him kiss her, loving the gentle feel of his lips. No-one had ever been so gentle. Or pure. She longed for more.

But all too quickly he was gone, his empty chair now ghostly, too empty. She wished she hadn't said she was tired. She was pathetic. She had chickened out. She was meant to be a strong woman! She dealt with bodies every day, met their grieving families, told them the aching news. She put faces on victims, learned their true identities, knew them by their first name. Yet she never cried. Never was fearful. She never flinched when she found out someone had shot her, that a murderer was after her, trying to kill her. She refused to budge, refusing to be afraid. When she'd seen bodies, babies, even, she refused to be afraid. When Botoh kissed her, under that mistletoe, she refused to be afraid...

And now she had just wanted to ask him a question. Sure, she had managed to stutter those important, life-changing words; 'Do you love me?', but why couldn't she go on?  
She remembered his words. She knew they would be forvever etched into her heart, taken with her to the grave. "_I love you more then anything in this world, Temperance. Nothing can change that."_

She felt a tear begin to streak down her cheek. She quickly wiped it away, and felt the mark where Booth had stroked her. She memorised the feel of his touch, hoping that her words hadn't changed their chemistry, hadn't made it awkward.

She knew it was pointless to rethink it over. What was done was done. But she knew she had to ask that question tomorrow, otherwise she may never get the chance...

*

She had an extremely painful night. She constantly had pains shooting through her abdomen, starting her awake, crouching over in pain. She constantly felt like she needed to throw up, and often had to jump out of bed and run to the bathroom, which had been provided for her room. At first she was coughing up empty air, but then she saw blood emitting from her mouth.

It was getting worse.

But the worse part was after the retching. Every time she went to the bathroom she immediately felt fatigued, and often had to stumble back into bed, the room spinning. She fell asleep only for short periods of time, before revisiting the bathroom.

She woke in the early hours of the morning, the sun peeking through the windows weakly. A nurse came in, and offered her small bites of food. She tried to eat, but her belly wouldn't stomach the food, and soon it was all coming out anyway.

She gave up on trying to eat. Instead she lay back in bed, her head resting on the hard pillows. Her neck felt stiff from the awkward positions she had slept in, and she constantly rolled it around, trying to free the muscles from the clenching grasp.

She was rolling her head again when Booth walked in. He raised his eyebrows at her strange movements. Brennan felt her stomach flip when he walked in. She quickly had to jump out of bed and run to the bathroom, with him staring after her. Thankfully nothing came up, but she still felt quesy. She walked slowly back to her bed, ready to face his concerned look.

She was only just back in bed when he began asking. "You're clearly not well. Bones, tell me. Something's not right. You fainted yesterday in fornt of me. You say you're fine and yet you ran past me to the bathroom just then. I heard you in there."

Brennan flinched at the thought of the sounds of her retching behind the closed door. But how could she cover for the story?

A doctor walked in, a different person to the day before. She had gentle eyes, yet a hard mouth. But somehow Brennan knew she was nice.

"A blood test?" the doctor asked, though more of a statement then a question. Brennan nodded. "How are you feeling?" she questioned while she was inserting the needle.

"Fine."

Booth made a sound at the back of his throat. The doctor looked up at him. "She just ran past me to throw up in the bathroom."

The doctor looked back to Brennan. She tried to tell her with her eyes that she wanted to talk alone. The doctor nodded, seemingly understanding. She knew she couldn't force Booth out, but knew how to make him leave voluntarily. "We'll just need you to remve your clothing so I can give you an external examination."

It worked. Booth stood up. "I'll just go...wait....outside." He was already out of the door.

The doctor looked back to Brennan. "I am aware of your condition. How are you feeling?"

Brennan sighed. "Stomach pains. Nasuea. Trouble sleeping. Throwing up."

"Blood?" the doctor asked. Brennan nodded.

The doctor gave her a serious look. "I'm going to give you some medication. Hopefully it will help you recover. It sounds like you're getting worse."

"I was afraid of that."

The doctor nodded, giving her the pills and then walked out, about to indicate to Booth that he could return. But he was nowhere in sight. The doctor shrugged and the walked off. Brennan wondered where Booth could be – it wasn't like him just to leave unexpectedly – even if he had a case. He would have said goodbye.

But all confusion left her when he walked through the door. He was holding a bunch of flowers, and a teddy bear. She rolled her eyes. "Booth..." she disagreed.

Booth lay the flowers in an empty vase by her bed and put the teddy on her lap. She saw it read 'I love you'. She kept quiet.

Somehow Booth could tell not to ask any questions. He approached a different topic. "Angela called."

Brennan groaned. And then, to her displeasure, the girl herself walked in the door. She walked over to Brennan, and clutched her, holding her to her chest. She too was holding a teddy bear. Over Angela's shoulder, Brennan gave Botoh a deathly look.

Angela was full of sympathy. Over the space of an hour Hodgins and Cam had also arrived, both bringing gifts and tidings of sympathy. Luckily, as she had no food in her, she didn't have to make frequent trips to the bathroom. But Brennan was getting more and more tired by the second, and couldn't pay attention to the conversation around her. Soon her eyes were drooping, her head resting on the pillow, only to be jerked up again at the sound of Angela's laughter or a disagreement from Hodgins. But Booth was first to notcie her discomfort. He had his eyes on her nearly the whole time, and knew that she needed rest. He silenced the conversation with his loud voice.

"Ok, people, Bones is getting tired. Time to get out." He made swooping gestures with his hands. They gradually stood up, each reaching down and hugging Brennan. Booth was last, and made sure eveyone was out of the room before turning to her and kissing her smoothly again. Obviously he had the respect to keep their relationship a secret. She was glad. She didn't want Angela screaming her pleasure.

But she felt hollow inside. Her dream was at last coming true – they finally knew each others feelings. But she knew he would be devastated when he found out.....when she.....

She had to stop it. She couldn't break his heart like that.

But she couldn't tell him.

She couldn't hurt him.

Btu he seemed so confident, so sure that she was fine.

Maybe she should be feeling that way too.

She watched as Booth walked out of the room, before her head hit the pillow and she was finally pulled into a peacefull, momentarily unpainful sleep.

* * *

I know my chapters are a bit short, but 1) long chapters can get really boring and 2) I'd have nothing to write about in the next chapters.

Please tell me what you think. Any criticism or corrections are welcome, just please don't make them _too _mean.

Thanks for reading!


	11. I Promised

Ok, so this is a short chapter, but it's the final chapter. I realised that I had no real ideas to go with to carry the story, and if I kept going on about how depressed Booth was no-one would want to read it. So here it is - it's a kind of sudden ending, but I couldn't think of any other way.

I want to thank you all for reading this story. And for all the support.

* * *

"This bone shows marks of trauma."

"Yeah, I can see that. That's why it has a huge _dent in it!_"

"Sorry, Agent Booth, but I'm just stating the facts. Would you like me to continue?" Zack asked.

"Yeah, yeah, go on."

Booth was pissed. He had never wanted to end up having Zack as his Forensic Anthropologist – everyone knew that. Zack and Booth hated each other, in a way, and they never talked face to face. Brennan often threatened Booth by saying that she could assign Zack to work for him instead of herself.

He never realised how much hell it would be.

It had been 3 months since Brennan had died. Booth was regaining his life. He knew he could never leave the whole squint squad. That was the only reason he agreed to work with Zack. They had already lost one of their own, and Booth knew it would be hard if he left too. Zack was now head Forensic Anthropologist, and was trying to teach Interns.

Booth was trying to head back to normal life. He knew Brennan would never want him skulking around. So he had gone out and found a girlfriend. Emily, her name was. The good thing about her was that when she talked, you could never tune out. She was really sweet, funny, and entertaining. When Booth was with her, he found it hard to think of Bones.

Which was his overall plan.

He had learnt to immerse himself in life, do everything he could to forget about her, because when he tried to remember, the pain became too much to bear.

He hadn't forgotten her promise. That he would die for her. He thought of suicide, but knew that she would never have wanted him to die like that. She believed he was a warrior with a lion heart – that he would die in battle, or doing a good deed or something.

"Um, Agent Booth?"

"Yeah?"  
"I recommend questioning the wife."

"Why?"

"She plays baseball."

Booth groaned. "You want to come too, don't you?"

Zack tried to hide his questioning look mixed with excitement. Booth sighed. Zack was trying to do everything he could to fill in for Brennan – _including _wanting to go out into the field with him.

And he didn't have a choice but to agree.

"Fine, but don't ask anything or-"

"Or you will shoot me between my oxibi-"

"Eyes. Just be a normal person and say eyes."

"Or you will shoot me between the eyes."

"Thank you."

"But-"

"Just stop."

Zack pursed his lips, trying to say something.

"What?" Booth asked.

"Mmmm….Can I have a gun?" He asked hesitantly.

"No!" Booth said, and turned, walking out to his car. Zack followed, carrying his notes and the case file. He opened the passenger door.

"What are you doing?" Booth asked. "No, you're in the back."

He saw the disappointment glaze over Zack's eyes. He gave in. "Fine, you can sit in the front."

No matter how hard he tried, he was still finding it difficult to like Zack. He was just too….annoying. Booth couldn't find an exact word to describe him, but that was the closest.

They travelled in silence. Zack tried to create conversation, but the look on Booth's face cut him short.

They arrived at the wife's house. Booth climbed out of the car, stepping onto the footpath. He quickly saw blood on the concrete, and called Zack around. He drew his gun, and pointed it towards the house.

"Zack, stay behind me, okay?"

"Ok, why?"

"Just do it."

He walked slowly up the drive. He heard cars behind him and knew backup had arrived. He heard a few footsteps, and soon 3 more agents appeared beside him. Together they all walked towards the front door.

It burst open.

A woman ran out, the wife. She held a pistol, and pointed it at the first agent, a woman. They were all wearing bullet-proof vests, but the lady was aiming towards the head. The other agents and Booth trained their gun on the woman, threatening to shoot.

"Put the gun down, lady," Booth called. "It's okay."

The lady was hysterical. "How is it okay? My husband is dead! So is my son! And I killed them!" She laughed. "And soon this young girl will be dead too – because she INTERFERED!"

She pulled the trigger. At the same time, another agent blasted the woman with his weapon. Booth saw everything in slow motion. He looked at the woman, and suddenly she was Bones. Her brown hair, her prominent cheekbones, and her kind eyes.

And she was about to be shot.

Booth couldn't let that happen to the woman he loved.

He ran towards her, and threw himself in front of the woman. Only then, only inches away from her face, did he realise that it wasn't Bones at all.

And by then it was too late.

The bullet slammed into his gut, below the beltline of the vest. Blood flowed out of his stomach. He doubled over, though still trying to stay upright. It wasn't working too well though. The other agents and Zack ran over to him.

He tried to wave them off. "It's too late. It's too severe. Leave me."

"Booth, you need help," the female agent said, tears flowing. It was her fault she was dying.

"No. I promised her. I promised…"

"You promised what?"

"Bones." He spoke to no-one. "You died… for me….. so I'm….. taking a bullet for….you. Thank you…."

His hands curled over his stomach. An ambulance screamed around the corner, and paramedics raced to save him.

* * *

Seeley Booth died on the way to the hospital.

He didn't mind.

He did it for his partner.

* * *

I know it was very sudden, but as i said, i couldn't think of any other way. Please review and tell me what you think, about this chapter or the story as a whole. That would be great.

Thanks for sticking with me, guys!

Till next time!


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